Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that did nothing to soothe the tension in John's chest. He sat rigid in the waiting area, watching as his friend, Michael, emerged from the interview room, a broad smile plastered across his face. Michael clapped him on the shoulder, offering a too-hearty “Good luck, man!” before disappearing down the hall.

John's hands trembled as he watched the door close behind him. He pictured the easy conversation, the shared jokes, the genuine connection that, from the outside, appeared to have taken place. John looked again, finding that the door now felt like a barrier between him and his entire life. The waiting room suddenly felt like a tomb.